


Teaching

by Lafaiette



Category: Deadpool (Comics), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Comfort, Established Relationship, M/M, Psychological Trauma, Target Practice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-28
Updated: 2013-11-28
Packaged: 2018-01-02 21:56:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1062079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lafaiette/pseuds/Lafaiette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Wait, wait, wait, baby boy. You really want me… to teach you how to use a gun?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Teaching

"I think you should learn how to use a weapon."

At first Peter is sure to be mistaken, he probably heard it wrong. So he blinks and gently asks Captain America to repeat what he just said.

"I said you should learn how to use a weapon, boy. Something that isn’t a web-shooter. A… mh, _real_ weapon.”

Peter shakes his head, incredulous, and even though he’s wearing his mask he knows Steve can discern his expression.

"Are… are you saying I’m not a real fighter?" Peter’s voice almost cracks with indignation, but he doesn’t let it. He still has a little of dignity left.

"I think you are a great sold- _fighter_ , but you should rely on more than those webs of yours. You may need a more… effective weapon one day or be forced to use one due to the circumstances. You should be ready for any inconvenience, Spider-Man, and I think you should at least learn the basics.”

Peter shakes his head, extremely angry, annoyed and scared - he’s against that kind of violence, he could never fire a gun, just thinking about it makes his guts clench and bile go up in his throat.

"I won’t do anything like that. I’ll stick with my webs. Pun not intended."

Steve’s gaze is stern and cold and he points a finger at Peter, shaking it slowly as he speaks: “Then you are not coming with us tomorrow. Nor the days after. There are going to be some serious missions where weapons might be used, enemies that wouldn’t be even bothered by your webs. You would need a defense that your current… equipment can’t give you.”

"You are joking!" Peter exclaims, because he was really looking forward to those missions with the Avengers, they’ve been talking about them since ages. They are even more special since they will let Wade participate… oh!

"So that’s why you accepted Wade’s help. Because he’s an expert with any kind of weapon and situation that requires violence." Peter realizes with low voice and Steve nods curtly.

"His help will be precious. This time we need a decisive strategy, a real attack." His face looks kinder now. "Don’t worry, the only deaths will be those of the robots and mechanical creatures we’ll have to fight against."

"My webs could work against those too…" Peter mutters angrily, fists clenched at his sides, but Steve shakes his head.

"No, this time I believe not. I’m sorry, but if you are not going to be more… _versatile_ , then I’m afraid you won’t take part into these missions.”  
Steve sighs and excuses himself saying: “Don’t worry, we will take care of your boyfriend for you, okay?” He pats Peter’s shoulder - and it looks almost like a sorry gesture - and walks away.

The young superhero thinks with rage and worry about the matter. He’s deeply wounded by the Captain’s words and he really thinks he’s exaggerating.

But Peter _wants_ to participate in those missions, especially because Wade will be in them, one of the few times he’s been accepted in the group. Peter has asked many times to let him come along and he understands now why they were so eager to accept this time. They are just exploiting his talent and he will join them thinking they are actually happy to have him with them.

Peter bites his lips. He’s angry because they are treating Wade like a toy and also because he’s been basically called useless. He doesn’t want to give in, but he also doesn’t want to make Wade go alone, thinking the Avengers want him because they are slowly changing their mind about him.

He has to accompany him, he needs to be there _with_ and _for_ him.

He will give in for him.

  
\- - -  
  
  
“You want me to do what?”

Wade lifts his eyes from his costume he’s trying to patch at the best of his sewing capacities and adds: “I probably heard it wrong. Auditory hallucinations, I’m the best at those.”

“No, silly.” Peter sighs sitting next to him and gently removing the poor costume from his hands. “Gosh, look at this! You are even sewing it on the wrong side!”

“A side is a side!” Wade whines, but turns serious when he realizes that Peter really said that.

“Wait, wait, wait, baby boy. You really want me… to teach you how to use a gun?”

“Yes.” Peter nods solemnly, still undoing all Wade’s wrong sewing work. When he doesn’t hear a reply, he lifts his gaze to look at his boyfriend, who stares back at him as if he has seen another pair of arms sprouting from his sides.

“But… but… you are _Peter!_ ”

“So what, ‘Peter’ and ‘gun’ can’t be together in the same sentence now?”

“Just when you are not the one holding it! I mean… you hate guns! You always tell me not to use them in battle, you hate their sounds, you hate their smell… and…” it’s rare for Wade to be so discreet, but he actually stops talking and tells with the eyes what he’s thinking. Peter understands immediately: he’s referring to his Uncle and the way he was killed.

“I know.” he says softly. “I hate guns - I will always hate them -, but Captain America was clear: I can’t join you and the others in those missions we talked about if I don’t learn some basics with…” he grimaces before concluding: “… normal weapons.”

“Peter, just skip them this time!” Wade is looking at him surprised, as if he can’t believe Peter didn’t think about that, but went for the most complicated way instead. “It’d be way easier.” He narrows his eyes, suddenly worried. “Especially if it’s going to be so dangerous as it sounds.”

Peter shakes his head and tells his half-truth: “No, I want to show Captain America I can use his precious ‘normal weapons’ too! Like hell I’m gonna step back from this!” He doesn’t say anything about what the others really think about Wade’s help, but he says his honest opinion with a fond smile: “And I was looking forward to work with you in an epic battle against robots.”

Wade softens like a puppy and whines softly, rubbing his neck and trying to come up with a better idea that can satisfy both parties. He found none, so he sighs and opens his arms in a defeated gesture.

“Okay, baby boy. Guess we can give it a try.”

“Thank you!”

Wade holds Peter tightly when he wraps his arms around his neck, but he makes his point clear:

“I will teach you just the basic stuff, understood? No heavy weapons, no rifles, no bazookas… just a simple and small gun, I don’t want to scare you for life or see a hole in one of your feet.”

“I’ll be careful, I promise.” Peter laughs kissing him. “And I’ll have a great teacher, so I can’t fail!”

Wade hums thoughtfully, caressing his hair. “I don’t know, Petey. I always thought that seeing you with a gun in hand would have been totally sexy and boner-inducing, but now… I’m not that sure. It’s… weird, surreal.”

“A little.” Peter admits, cupping his cheek with a smile. “Don’t worry, though, once I’ve shown Captain America I can take care of myself even without my webs, I’ll never use a gun again.” He then kisses Wade again to erase the worried frown from his face.

 

Peter is wearing that same frown two hours later at the shooting range.

They are the only ones training today, because Wade convinced the owner to not let anyone else enter using some money, two or three threats and a flash of his cruel scowl that means “do as I say or I’ll shoot you in the balls”.

When they are alone, Wade loses his angry and arrogant attitude and is sweet and cuddly again, taking all the necessary precautions: he makes Peter wear protective goggles, earmuffs, gloves and gives him a small gun, whose recoil won’t hurt his arm and hand.

Peter grimaces as he slowly wraps his fingers around the heavy weapon and handles it as if it could explode any moment.

“First rule!” Wade starts positioning behind Peter and lifting his arms, gun pointing at the first motionless target. “Always check the safety, baby boy.” Peter nods awkwardly as Wade removes it and he tenses when the merc moves his hands to align the barrel with the target.

“Deep breaths, Petey. Try not to close your eyes when you fire.”

“O-Okay.”

 But when he shoots he can’t but close them and yelp, the bullet hitting the wall behind the human-shaped cardboard.

Wade laughs softly and guides Peter’s hands back in position; then he places his own on his hips, kissing the back of his head.

“Try again. Flinch if you want, but don’t close your eyes.”

“It’s so loud, even with the earmuffs.” Peter whines, legs slightly trembling. He has seen many guns in his superhero life, but he so _scared_ right now, his heart is pounding, his tongue and lips are dry. Wade’s presence reassures him a bit, especially his body against his own and his warmth.

Wade puts his hands on the earmuffs, pressing them more against Peter’s head, and says loudly: “Try now, baby boy.”

Peter does and the bullet misses again, falling somewhere on the floor under the cardboard.

“Dammit…” he curses under his breath. His fingers and wrist are already aching, he can feel the cold metal through the gloves and his breath starts becoming ragged and heavy.

He hates seeing that thing in his hands, hates how much it weights and the meanings and consequences behind its simple form. It’s something he has seen so many times, aimed at him, at innocents, at enemies and above all at his Uncle. It’s not the same gun from that day, but at the same time it is and the regret he managed to hide in the deepest part of his soul is now emerging, stronger than ever.

It’s like he has really killed Uncle Ben with his own hands and he can almost smell blood in the air. Tears are prickling in his eyes and he whimpers softly, arms still raised and trembling in front of him.

He blinks, the illusion shattered, when the gun is snatched away from his grip and tossed across the shooting range, hitting the target with a loud noise.

“Come here.” Wade gruffly says, dragging him over to the seats near the wall. Peter sags on one of them and lets Wade remove the earmuffs and goggles. The scarred man lifts his chin and look at him in the eyes bright with tears.

“I’m sorry, I…” Peter rasps out. “I… I’ll try again.”

“No, you will _never_ try this again.” Wade replies and he sounds so determined, curt and _worried_ Peter can’t help but crying louder. The older man sits next to him and Peter sobs on his shirt, wrapping his arms around his large waist and relaxing under the touches of his big hands on his hair and back.

“I don’t like seeing you with a weapon in hand, Petey.” Wade murmurs kissing his head. “You must stay away from those things. You won’t learn how to shoot things, Captain America can go fuck himself. You’ll stick with your webs - pun intended of course - and if he doesn’t like that, then you will stay at home.”

“I… I used that pun too.” Peter smiles weakly, but his expression turns sad and frantic and he raises his head to look at Wade. “No, I want to come with you, Wade! They…” he stops talking, because he really doesn’t want to tell his boyfriend what the others think about him.

Wade already knows, though, because he chuckles and shakes his head: “Petey, Petey, I know they still can’t stand me, despite all the good things about me you tell them every day. It’s clear they want me just for undeniable talent with every kind of weapon and love for explosions.”

He cups Peter’s cheek and adds with a sweeter smile: “You know what? I won’t go either. They won’t treat me like the toy or dog they think I am. I’m sure they will manage somehow - and if they won’t I don’t give a fuck. We will both stay at home and _you_ will teach _me_ something.”

Peter wipes off his tears and looks at him quizzically, happy and confused at the same time.

“Sewing of course!” Wade concludes as if it’s the most obvious answer in the world. “You’ve seen the disaster I make every time I hold needle and thread! You don’t know when that could come in handy, my job requires the most varied skills.”

Peter smiles through the tears and nods, thanking softly Wade and holding his hand tightly. He can see Wade is happy to stay at home too - he must have accepted those missions just to be with Peter and nothing else, knowing the others didn’t care about him.

“We will be like those nerds who don’t get invited at parties.” Peter giggles, excitement rushing through him now that the tension is gone.

“Well, this is better though.” Wade replies as they stand and put on their jackets to go out. “Those assholes will spend the whole day fighting robots and trying not to die, we will spend it on our bed, eating my special pancakes and sewing our costumes with pink thread and rainbow buttons, watching TV and making love, discussing that last episode of _American Horror Story_ and sharing our headcanons for the characters.”

“If I will show you how to sew, will you show me how to make your special pancakes?”

“Okay, but don’t pout if they won’t come out as perfect as mine, baby boy.”

“Don’t worry.” Peter says with a grin, pressing a kiss on the scarred cheek. “I know you will teach me well, Wade.”


End file.
